


running, screaming, escaping the dreaming

by mysticaltorque



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, F/M, Morning After, Other, POV The Master (Doctor Who), Spoilers for Episode: s12e01-02 Spyfall, The Master being The Master, oh no they got nasty on top of the eiffel tower
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-07
Updated: 2020-01-07
Packaged: 2021-02-27 03:26:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22150267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mysticaltorque/pseuds/mysticaltorque
Summary: AU where the TARDIS is better hidden so the Doctor stalls for even more time,,,, one thing leads to another and the Master wakes up first, the morning after.
Relationships: Thirteenth Doctor & The Master (Dhawan), Thirteenth Doctor/The Master (Dhawan)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 118





	running, screaming, escaping the dreaming

The bed was the problem. Instead of low gravity sleeping pods or suspension beams that would allow them to entwine around each other until neither could tell where one ended and the other began, they were sprawled in a scavenged nest of bedding in an untouched room of a bombed out house in 1943 Paris.

As was typical with the Doctor, things had gone resoundingly off track.

Perhaps he should have paid more attention last night, but in the ecstatic joy of mind to mind and body to body, he forgot to count the freckles and false scars on the side now turned away from him. He had already estimated height when she had first appeared on cctv along with general dimensions, but detail was nigh impossible to get unless close, a mixed bag of success when it came to her previous regenerations.

Ever since their academy days, the Master needed to know the Doctor.

The body changed, the mind did not, but little Koschei from the academy was never satisfied unless the Master knew the Doctor's body as well as Theta's. The mind stayed the same, a familiar pulsation indicating a shift into the deeper part of the sleep cycle, body lax, shutdown as near death as possible. 

The Master was seized by the sudden urge to creep off to his TARDIS and get the drugs that would lengthen her sleep to easy centuries, happy and unburdened by the death or suffering of the humans she was so attached to, her mind pulsing in easy contentment. Not death, like he claimed he wished for her, but close. A happy compromise. Only the slight rise and fall of the Doctors rib cage makes the Master realise he has engaged his respiratory bypass at all, too busy debating paint swatches for her new room in the TARDIS (burgundy was so last century). If he keeps her asleep for centuries, he might feel too lonely without the knowledge she could speak to him. He would miss her, however fond a daydream tucking her into bed in his TARDIS was to revisit.

Her nose suggests at one point a slight break even though she had mentioned she had yet to break it in this body- more false scars and freckles that tell a false story, disguise a newly-regenerated Time Lord from standing out too much from the crowd by being perfectly unmarred. Freckles from skin not yet exposed to the correct radiation for them to form, as translucency and coloration of the mark on her thigh can only occur from the dual green suns of the Antigone MVII system, where he would have heard of a vertebrate of her description sunbathing. The echoes of the scars he used to know seem to linger beneath her skin until he brushes against a frisson of psychic energy (nasty burn while the TARDIS stalled mid-repair) making sure the true scars of this body tell him their story.

He chases a slash from an insectoid android that she dressed on her own without telling anyone, wincing in between each stitch, following its jagged progress from the knob of her left hip bone (cut deepest there, leaving a small mark just discreet enough to not be mistaken for a scar after healing technology) on its long-vanished path up to her diaphragm, respiratory bypass tucked behind it, where he wrestles down the urge, paranoid even for him, to take a laser scalpel and cut her open to make sure her hearts still beat, that she had not died and this was an illusion. This regeneration, especially, was worried after the rumors that the Doctor's previous incarnation was willing to die, holding back the regeneration process. If there was one thing Gallifrey had been good for, it had been giving her another cycle that she was too soft-hearted to obtain through other means as he had.

It was perhaps more unfortunate that this, like everything else, must end. If he hid his TARDIS, they could stay, a mere seven decades, until they could slip into their respective TARDISes and continue their endless game. 

The Master had far too high an estimation of the Doctor and her ability to take advantage of any opening given to believe they could stay like this for long. For now, however, he begins to slip into a meditative trance, confident that no matter where the Doctor runs, he will be able to chase her. 

**Author's Note:**

> Warning:  
> mentioned dissection and forced comas  
> the master being a mildly obsessive creep after completely consensual sex while the doctor is still asleep


End file.
